The Golden Butterfly
by xTamashii
Summary: When offered to vacation on an island owned by the brother of a good friend, who are they to say no?  However, disaster and bloodshed unfolds that no one could have anticipated.  As they say, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. -USxUK; AU-
1. Vows, Storms, and Darkest Nights

I got this fabulous idea. In the past, I had quite a love affair with Umineko no Naku Koro ni. Positively adored it. Then came Hetalia. And I can't believe I've never thought of it before.

The plot is loosely based off Umineko. When I say loosely...I mean _very, very, loosely. _I only really got the general idea from it. It could even more or less come off as an original piece. It's just the inspiration that comes from Umineko to write something like this.

Pairings abound, everyone! Main will be USxUK, and I'll keep the many, many others in here a surprise. They will not take a backseat, I assure you. ;)

For now, on with the prologue. First chapter will be added shortly as this is far too short to stand on its own.

* * *

**p r o l o g u e**

_Vows, Storms, and Darkest Nights_

* * *

The night was dark, as nights should be.

However, there was something far different about this darkness. Something far more sinister, but not noticeably. If one were to point at the sky on this night and ask what was different about it, they might furrow their eyebrows, squinting, trying to see if they could gauge the different between this night and any other through vision alone. But after a moment they would perhaps shake their head or shrug, saying there really was not anything different about tonight.

At least, nothing one would notice consciously.

The subconscious has the tendency to notice far more than one's consciousness can. Unfortunately, it is usually impossible to say precisely what message the subconscious is trying to send us.

Perhaps this is why those who do not believe in the unseen fare far worse in wicked situations than those who do...

A young man mulls this over in his mind, fingers trailing absently over the crystal stem of an empty wine glass. His eyes stare fixedly, but without focus, at the bare dregs of crimson liquid remaining at the very bottom of the glass. He doesn't move to drink them; rather, he watches the light catch on the reddish liquid, faintly fascinated by how it looks in the candlelight.

A faint knock sounds on the door to his study.

Quickly dropping his dark mood, he smiles faintly. "Come in," he calls out softly to whoever it is that knocks. His smile grows once he sees who it is. An old friend.

His friend looks a bit nervous but clears his throat and shakes his head as if trying to dispel that nervousness. "Ludwig was wondering if you were alright. You haven't come down to dinner in many days now and...we're all worried about you." The last part of his sentence trailed off so he was nearly mumbling.

He, however, caught every word of it, and smiled wearily.

"Please, do not worry yourself over me, Gilbert. Hehe. I'm resilient. I always have been. Tell your brother not to worry."

Gilbert nodded silently at this, crimson eyes looking oddly dark in the candlelit room. This silence and humbleness was entirely out of character for someone as loud as Gilbert. Was there something wrong?

"Say, Gilbert?"

"Mm, yeah?" He sounded a bit nervous again, and coughed once more to try and hide it. "I mean, yes?"

He laughed at this. "Have you ever considered...what it would be like if..._he _was still - "

"No." Gilbert cut sharply into him before sighing, running a hand through his hair, a silent gesture of nervousness or frustration. "I mean, of course I have wondered that, Feliciano. But there is no point in focusing on the past when the present lies before us, you know?" He sighed in exasperation. "Besides, it's completely un-awesome to worry about stupid things like that. Ha. Just think of it this way...he's there in spirit, or something, I dunno...I'm not so good at saying things like this..." Gilbert scratched the back of his neck, at a loss for words.

Feliciano understood however, having known Gilbert as long as he did. And he truly appreciated what he said. "I understand. And I know it, but I sometimes wonder. Ah, well. I'm acting terribly out of character, aren't I?" He laughed softly. "Tell Ludwig I'll be down for dinner tomorrow night for sure."

Gilbert nodded at all of this, preparing to leave until Feliciano's voice stopped him once more.

"Oh, and call my brother, won't you? Tell him to bring all of his friends and such to visit. I would love to how he and his friends are doing. After all, they are my friends too, right?" He smiled at this.

Gilbert managed a half-smirk in return. "Heh. Of course. Having a party this weekend, are we? Awesome. I'm sure everyone else will be excited about it. I'll go talk to West." He had clearly relaxed; he'd slipped back into using his nickname for his younger brother.

"Of course." Feliciano beamed. "Please do so. I'll see you later, Gilbert." He called after him. "Pleasant dreams."

"You too, Feli." He called back with a smirk in his voice before closing the door softly behind him, leaving Feliciano alone with his thoughts once more. At this, he sighed, tired of being alone with just his thoughts.

"Say, old friend?" Feliciano wandered over the vast window in his study, which he opened, staring up at the night sky.

"What do you say I finally begin this? I'm tired of being alone, you know. I want you with me. So please, won't you come back to me? My brother and his friends are coming, so...I assume you know what to do?" Lighting flashed in response to his words, and a heavy wind rattled the old mansion's windows. Rain came not too long after, the icy droplets wetting Feliciano's right hand, which was raised to the sky.

"Take what you wish," he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically dark, yet full of longing, "as long as you come back to me."

_"Chi la dura la vince." _He murmured before closing the window as well as his heart.

* * *

Translation Notes:

_'Chi la dura la vince.' - _Something along the lines of 'He who perseveres wins at last.' An Italian proverb I found that I thought fit and that I liked the sound of.


	2. Vacations, Welcoming, and a Magical Isle

Now for the first chapter. Truthfully, I don't have much to say this time.

Read and perhaps review please? Reviews make my day.

* * *

**c h a p t e r . o n e**

_Vacations, Welcoming, and a Magical Isle_

* * *

Truth be told, he hadn't really wanted to go at first. Oh, heavens no. He much preferred staying at home, reading, perhaps working. Mind you, he wasn't the world's worst workaholic; he simply loved his job.

However, he found himself now on a boat that he absolutely did not trust, driven by a man he trusted even less.

"Who in their right mind gave that bloody frog a boating license, anyway?" He had wondered aloud.

"Why, _mon cher_, what boating license do you mean?"

Arthur certainly found himself trusting Francis even less than he normally did.

On the other hand, perhaps this trip wouldn't be _so _terrible. He was the only one out of their group of friends who hadn't had the chance to visit the island that was owned by the Vargas brothers' grandfather. After the man had passed away, the island, _Farfalla_, was passed down to the brothers. Lovino, the elder of the two, has absolutely no interest in owning the island. Since he was the older, it was logical that he would inherit all that their grandfather had left behind. Despite this, Lovino's unwillingness to take over was so strong that his younger brother, Feliciano had insisted on taking over instead. Lovino was reluctant about it at first, certainly, but eventually gave in and allowed his brother to take over, despite his inhibitions.

Arthur again pondered on the island's name. _Farfalla. Butterfly. _A creature that was so heavy in symbolism in literature, dreams, and religion. He wondered if there was a reason behind the naming of the -

"Hey, Artie!"

His thoughts were cut off abruptly as a rather loudmouthed America sidled over to him and clapped him on the back, nearly sending him over the edge of the railing and into the churning water below. Arthur winced before turning to face his childhood friend with a scowl.

Alfred was quite a bright and outgoing sort of person. He seemingly always had a grin on his face and his vividly blue eyes could put the clearest sky on a summer day to shame. Especially when he was excited or happy...like now. The sunlight caught in his dark golden hair, and Arthur was momentarily entranced before pulling his eyes away with a blush. No. He'd sworn to himself not to do that.

"So, Artie. You excited, or what? I mean, this is your first time going to visit the island!"

_Farfalla Island. _Known simply as 'the island' to those outside of the Vargas family. Somehow that absolutely diminished its dignity, thought Arthur.

"Excited, hm." He exhaled slowly. "I suppose so. It will be a nice change of pace." And that part was true. He'd heard nothing but good things about this island from their many friends, and wanted to see for himself how true all the things he'd heard were.

Alfred grinned widely in response. Arthur was surprised his face didn't split in two. However, when that smile was directed at him like that, it was like looking into direct sunlight. He couldn't do it for too long or it would be bad for him. He looked away, swearing to himself that no, he was not a few degrees warmer because of it.

"Yeah, It'll totally be awesome. I'm sure of it. It was last time I came here, at least. I don't really get why Lovino didn't want to run the place."

Truthfully, Arthur had been wondering the same thing. He'd assumed at first it was because of Antonio, a Spanish man whom Lovino had a pretty obvious crush on, but the more he thought about it, the more he was unsure. If that was the reason, then why -

"So, what do you want to do when we get there?"

Arthur cursed silently as his thoughts were interrupted again. Thinking and Alfred were two things that most certainly did not belong in the same sentence. Perhaps not even on the same bloody planet.

Out loud, he only sighed in response. "I suppose I haven't given it much thought." What was there to do on an island?

Alfred grinned again. "I'm sure you'll have a blast, Artie." With that, Alfred clapped him on the back once more (Arthur was prepared for it this time, so he gripped the railing so he wouldn't nearly fall over the edge) and headed over to speak with his Japanese friend, Kiku.

"Hey, Arthur! Jerk-face!"

He could only groan at the sound of another annoyingly familiar voice. The one of his little brother.

Peter came running towards him and skidded to a stop just before he would've run into him.

"What is it, Peter?" He asked, absently massaging his left temple.

"Have you seen Tino and Berwald? I've been looking all over for them 'cause I wanted to talk to them, and I asked Francis and he only laughed and winked at me and - "

Arthur held up a hand to stop Peter's tirade. Whatever Berwald and Tino were doing, he certainly didn't want his brother finding out. It was a well-known fact among the group that Tino and Berwald were an item and had been for a couple years now. They practically acted like a married couple; Berwald even went as far as calling the small Finn his 'wife' which made Tino flush and stutter helplessly.

"If you can't find them, maybe they don't want to be found. Go hang around with Alfred or something." You two are similar in your loudness and enjoyment for interrupting my peace and quiet, he added as an afterthought.

Peter looked momentarily crestfallen before pouting and folding his arms across his chest. "Fine. Jerk." And Peter departing, but not before kicking him in the shin.

Cursing under his breath, Arthur reached down to rub the offended spot. "That little git." He muttered before sighing and straightening up, returning his gaze to across the ocean, waiting for the infamous _Farfalla_ to come into sight.

* * *

Lovino sighed faintly to himself, rubbing his hands over his bare upper arms. He always visited when his brother asked. Always. As much as Feliciano annoyed him, he couldn't stand the thought of not visiting him. Admittedly, he always felt a bit guilty about leaving him on that island alone.

However, he never really regretted his choice. There was simply something about the island that gave him the creeps. For whatever reason, the sensation today was even worse. He felt incessantly cold, and no matter where he stood or how much he layered up, the chill never left. That was what was worrying him the most now.

"Lovi?" He heard a familiar voice call out from behind him and he turned slightly to see Antonio. He only nodded; he couldn't even bring himself to utter an insult.

"Are you alright, Lovino? You aren't acting like yourself."

"Aren't I?" He wondered aloud, his hands still chafing against his arms absently. Antonio was always so good at reading him. So much so that sometimes it was a little unnerving. Even so, he was glad to have the Spaniard around. Not that he would ever mention that aloud, not over his dead body.

Hands settled upon his shoulders, and Lovino almost shivered at how warm they felt in comparison to his chilled skin. He was sure Antonio wasn't going to let it drop now. It was true that Lovino had always been a bit sensitive to the spiritual; both he and his brother were that way. They shared an odd connection that their grandfather was hopelessly fascinated with. After the death of their father, however, when the brothers were free to take over instead, their grandfather was more than pleased, instead of disappointed that his own son had passed. The thought had always bothered Lovino, which was part of why he hadn't wanted to remain on that island and run all of his grandfather's affairs. He really did hate the place.

"You're freezing, Lovi." Antonio murmured, moving his hands up and down over Lovino's arms, pushing his hands out of the way. "Is something wrong? Don't lie, Lovi. You cannot lie to me, after all." He added the last part in an oddly cheery tone of voice.

Lovino let his eyes close. Yes, he knew full well that he couldn't lie to that damn bastard. Antonio knew him best, after all, next to his own brother.

"Shut up, bastard." He growled, though the insult was halfhearted. "I'm not fine, not right now, but I will be. Just give me some time."

Antonio nodded in understanding and made to pull away, removing his hands from Lovino's arms. However, Lovino placed one hand over one of the Spaniard's, a light flush covering his cheeks. "I didn't say to leave, idiot. Try listening for once."

At this, Antonio chuckled softly, wrapping his arms gently around Lovino's cool shoulders, enveloping him in warmth. "You're too adorable, my Lovi."

"Shut up."

The sea breeze whipped across their skin, and when Lovino shivered involuntarily, Antonio imperceptibly tightened his hold.

* * *

There was no question about it. The isle was just as amazing as everyone had described. Arthur could only look on in shock.

It wasn't a massive island, as was expected, but it was stunningly gorgeous nonetheless. It had a lazy, smooth shape from the side, but up close, the coast was covered with jagged black rocks that would surely puncture anything they touched. The clear water of the ocean sloshed merrily against the dark sides, not even reaching the greenery that lay beyond. And what lay beyond was the most stunning of all.

Forests, trees, flowers, all tinted faintly in golden light. Whether it was from the sun or something magical, Arthur was unsure, but found he couldn't care. The leaves caught the sunlight and held onto it, giving one the odd impression that they were glowing.

Flowers danced softly in the wind and he could faintly see a hill in the distance, which was nearly completely covered with flowers even more golden than the ones nearest the coast. As they passed this spectacle, Alfred came up alongside him, smiling as usual.

"What do you think?"

"A-amazing. Positively wondrous." Arthur whispered in awe, almost sad that they had to leave the sight behind. His feelings must have shown on his face, because Alfred chuckled and lay a hand on his shoulder. "No worries. We'll be sure to ask Feliciano if we can head over there and explore."

Arthur could only nod mutely in response, too fascinated with the magical aura of the island to even notice the hand on his shoulder. Once he did, however, he flushed impressively and turned his head, refusing to meet Alfred's gaze. He honestly needed to stop doing that.

"Everyone! Everyone, can I have your attention please?"

Arthur inwardly winced as he recognized that voice. He would recognize that irritating accent anywhere. Francis.

The Frenchman smirked at the expression upon Arthur's face before turning to the others whom had gathered around after his announcement. Even Tino and Berwald were here, accompanied by Peter. It seemed the brat had found them, and hopefully it was after whatever 'activities' they had going on in the meantime.

Next to them stood Lovino and Antonio, the latter with an arm around the scowling former's shoulders. Then to their left was Ivan, a tall and rather intimidating Russian who was fiddling with the stem of a sunflower, his somewhat creepy younger sister Natalia standing exactly behind him, something like a shadow. Standing just in front of Ivan was Yao, a long-haired Chinese man who rested an arm on the shoulders of Kiku, a Japanese boy who was both Yao's younger brother and Alfred's close friend. Lastly, standing quite close to Kiku was Heracles, a constantly sleepy looking Grecian who seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep again at this very moment.

Francis grinned once everyone was gathered. "Lovely! Now, it would seem that we have reached the harbor, so...everyone kindly take a look around!" He gestured dramatically with his arms, and everyone peered out of the sides of the boat intently.

Now that they were up close to those jagged pillars of rock, Arthur realized that they were far more frightening up close than they could have ever been at a distance. They loomed up close, shadowy, pitch black, and menacing; a complete contrast with the golden majesty of the island itself. It was if they were warning travelers of something worse to come.

Beyond that, however, things became considerably more pleasant. They reached the harbor, and as the boat was brought to the dock, they took in their surroundings. A seemingly endless beach stretched out before them, all golden sand and sapphire waters, the air saturated pleasantly with the scent of salt water. Arthur inhaled and exhaled slowly, relishing in the freshness of the air. Despite the intimidating scene earlier, the island was still, without a doubt, a highly attractive place.

"Okay everyone, get off, get off!" A female voice called out to them, followed by a couple brief claps.

Alfred grinned once he saw whom the voice belonged to. "Elizaveta!" He called out, waving an arm. The woman waved back in response, her green eyes merry.

"Hello, Alfred! Welcome back to all of you, too!" She called back, just as everyone was gathering their things and heading off the boat. Arthur sighed faintly in relief as his feet hit the solid wood of the dock. It was so nice to be on something stable rather than that terrible boat driven by a Frenchman who had no idea what he was doing. Well. Arthur supposed Francis had to know what he was doing _somewhat_, or else they never would have made it.

As he was walking toward the edge of the dock, Arthur noticed Antonio seemed to be helping Lovino off the boat, the two of them exiting last.

Curious, he walked a bit more slowly, pretending to fiddle with something on his duffel bag.

"...told you we should leave. No one would blame you for it, Lovi. Not even Feli, I'm sure." Antonio said coaxingly, arm still around Lovino's shoulders.

Lovino, however, shook his head violently in response. "N-no! No. I'll be fine, dumbass. I told you I'd be fine, so why won't you believe me?" He asked in a fierce whisper, looking up at Antonio with something akin to desperation. His fingers dug into the material on Antonio's shirt.

The Spaniard only shook his head slowly. "I believe you, Lovi. Of course I do. I am only worried, that's all. If you insist you're fine, then I'll believe you, but with how you're acting now I'm not sure what to do..." Antonio trailed off. Lovino began shaking his head slowly again.

"No, _andrà tutto bene_. Please trust me, Antonio."

Antonio tightened his grip on Lovino, sighing, seeming to give in. "I understand. I trust you Lovi, I do. _Por favor, tenga cuidado. _You must realize how much you mean to me."

Lovino flushed faintly at that, and Arthur took that as his cue to catch up with Alfred. Now that was an interesting conversation to overhear. He would have to think back on that later.

Alfred was conversing with the girl who had called out to them earlier, the one named Elizaveta. Standing next to her was Alfred's half-brother, Matthew. Glad to see a familiar face, Arthur approached him. "Good evening, Matthew."

The boy brightened up considerably upon being noticed. "Hello, Arthur. Good to see you, eh."

Arthur nodded. "Same to you. So how is it working for Feliciano?" Upon hearing his question, Matthew stiffened slightly before covering it up with a somewhat nervous sounding laugh.

"It's pretty good, actually. Mr. Vargas is quite kind to his employees. Never asks too much of us, pays us pretty well too, eh." He chuckled slightly. "For employees, we're treated pretty nicely."

Curious about Matthew's reaction, Arthur was just about to ask what that was about until Francis butted his way into the conversation, flamboyant about everything as usual.

"Ah, my sweet Matthieu. How do you fair, _mon amour?_" And with that, he kissed his hand lightly, his lips barely brushing over his knuckles.

Matthew flushed quite darkly at this, trembling slightly. "F-Francis. I'm doing well, thank you." He murmured, somewhat shyly. He shifted, a bit nervous, rubbing his hand back and forth over the spot Francis has kissed. Arthur could only roll his eyes at the whole display. Francis was good, he had to give him that. He almost had the poor boy's knees knocking together out of sheer nervousness.

Francis smiled slowly. "Wonderful to hear."

Deciding it would be best to leave the two, Arthur made his way over to where Alfred and Elizaveta stood, catching the last bit of their conversation.

"...and they say it's haunted. I wanted Roderich to take me, but he refused! I can't really understand why. Don't you think it would be exciting, Alfred?" She asked eagerly, eyes shining. Alfred shifted nervously at her question while Arthur smirked, joining in the conversation.

"Unfortunately, Alfred is completely terrified of anything ghost-related and would have to say that he really does _not_ find the prospect of anything haunted exciting. Isn't that right, Alfred?"

Alfred shot him a frown before glancing back over at Elizaveta.

"You don't say?" She pondered aloud, tapping her chin with one finger before turning to Arthur with a small smile. "So, you must be Arthur? I've heard a little about you from Alfred. I'm Elizaveta. Elizaveta Héderváry." She extended her hand to shake. Arthur took it and shook briefly before answering.

"I'm Arthur Kirkland. Pleasure." She smiled at him and opened her mouth, clearly about to say something before being cut off.

"Hey, everyone! Everyone kindly focus your attention on the awesome me! I know, I know. I realize there's nothing else worth focusing on here but me, so keep your eyes glued people!" A male who was distinctly albino jumped down a few steps, landing in the center of the group.

"I'm Gilbert the Awesome, and I'll be guiding you around this badass island! Of course, this island isn't as badass as me. And nice ass, Elizaveta!"

"Up yours, Gilbert." She replied sweetly, flipping him the bird.

"Love you too, sweetheart." He called back in return before turning back to the crowd.

"Welcome, everyone," He began, pausing for dramatic effect, "to _Farfalla Island_."

Something strangely solemn and ominous hung in the air after his words, but Arthur couldn't quite put a finger on just what...

* * *

I've finished the first chapter and prologue in the same night! Yay! :'D I hope you all like it so far. I've got great plans for this.

Translation Notes:

_Farfalla_ - Butterfly

_mon cher - _my dear

_andrà tutto bene - _everything will be fine

_Por favor, tenga cuidado - _please, take care

_mon amour - _my love

So, chances are pretty high that these are inaccurate, since I know none of the languages used in this chapter and had to resort to Google translator. Hope it makes some sense even if it's not entirely right :'D

Please review~!


	3. Enchantment, Paintings, and Odd Feelings

Next chapter! I don't know what you guys think of it, I haven't gotten many reviews. But that's okay. (Not to say I don't love reviews. Hint hint~) This is one I actually really like writing so far. :3

Anyway, sorry for it being a little late. I intended to release updates weekly but it seems that I should try and get them out monthly or something, hm? Or perhaps every few weeks. Hm. I'll find some way to manage my updating time. Anyway.

On with the chapter!

* * *

**c h a p t e r . t w o**

_Enchantments, Paintings, and Odd Feelings_

* * *

The island truly was magical.

Well, perhaps not in the literal sense. But there was something _alluring_ about it, something almost magnetic that drew one in. Arthur was no exception to this, whatever it was. He found he wouldn't have really minded just losing himself in a place like this.

After the hurried introductions down at the beach, Elizaveta and Gilbert led the party up through a winding set of stairs that cut through a small segment of forest. The steps themselves were fondly worn and darkened with age, the center part slightly sunken from many feet over the years.

Most everyone else had been here before, so this was a new experience for Arthur. If this wasn't the whole forest, he longed to see what the rest of it was like.

Leaves swayed softly overhead in their own strange rhythm, keeping pace with the wind's every whim. The glow of the sun was curtained by shadowy ferns and broad leaves, casting patches of indefinite inky darkness over everything that lay beneath. The light and shadows shifted constantly in a seemingly never ending dance, causing intricate patterns to move across the ground and people below. The areas that weren't covered in shadow were dyed a brilliant gold, shining with an ethereal glow. It seemed like something other than just sunlight; it seemed far too magical to be something so commonplace.

Truthfully, Arthur felt he could live on this alone. There was just _something_ about this entire island that gave one the feeling that they were separate from the material world entirely; that they were in an enchanted realm cut off from the outside, free and unattached. It was a strange feeling, at first, but it was definitely one he felt he could get used to.

Surprisingly, no one spoke on the walk up; the entire group was silent aside from the sounds of their footsteps and breathing.

It seemed like an eternity before they finally passed through that small section of forest, and beyond it seemed like an entirely different world.

The ground from here on out was paved in cobblestone, giving the entire area a rustic feel. Their shoes clicked softly upon the stones as they walked, accompanied by sound the group's murmurs.

Did this place lack in surprises? Arthur could only wonder. Apparently not, for as they approached the vast garden that lay just before the even larger mansion, he found himself blown away a second time.

The garden itself was certainly impressive. Massive flowerbeds went on for ages, boasting a number of different breeds and colors of flowers that he hadn't even known existed. And to think, he'd actually considered himself an adept gardener. Whoever was tasked with managing this vast array of flowers certainly had their work laid out for them.

"Of course it's managed by multiple people." Elizaveta spoke up smiling softly, seeming to have read Arthur's mind. "It would be really ridiculous for Feli - I mean, Mr. Vargas - to ask any one person to manage an area this huge."

"Ah, of course." Arthur managed to breathe out, his voice not quite working properly. He would kill of have a garden of this caliber. Not necessarily of this size, but...the flowers were stunning. They were so vivid and full of life, and filled the air with an undeniably pleasant aroma. He could get used to this, that was for sure. This was just really, really, _nice._

The group continued on through the garden, people talking cheerfully among themselves once more, the rapt silence from the walk through the forest completely shattered. And that was fine, for this garden had an entirely different atmosphere than the forest did; it was warmer, more open, more welcoming.

He allowed his fingers to brush a single rose, the petals silken against his fingertips. The plant shuddered under his light caress. "So lovely." He said softly to himself, barely a breathy whisper. Roses were his favorite. Perhaps it was rather feminine of him, but he'd always had a soft spot for roses. He reluctantly pulled his fingers away, glancing ahead only to notice he'd fallen a bit behind the others.

Sighing faintly, he turned to catch up, but he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye that caused him to freeze and turn, frowning. When he looked, there was nothing there, but he could have sworn he saw the flutter of someone's clothing as they walked past. Perhaps it was his imagination and it was only a flower. Shaking his head slowly, he continued to ponder what had happened as he picked up his pace to catch up with the others.

He fell in step with Alfred and Elizaveta, telling himself that he hadn't seen anything and it was solely in his mind. Despite this, there was just a strange feeling he couldn't quite shake...

* * *

"Yo everyone, gather 'round 'cause I know you want to hear me talk in my awesome voice since I'm just - ow, the Hell, you bitch?" Gilbert was cut off mid-sentence by a scowling Elizaveta yanking on his ear.

However, when she turned to face the group, she was all smiles. "Okay, everyone. Gilbert, myself, and other employees shall be leading you to your rooms where you can deposit your luggage before we sit and have lunch. Mr. Vargas will not be joining us, unfortunately," She looked briefly downcast by this, but the expression was gone as if it had never been there, and she continued speaking with a smile, "but he will be with us for dinner, so you may anticipate his company then. But in the meantime, after lunch, you are free to do as you'd like! Just be sure not to enter Mr. Vargas' study without his permission. Ah, and Lovino," She added, turning to face him, "we'd like to, ah, have a word, so if you could come with me after you leave your luggage..." She smiled a bit nervously.

Gilbert growled faintly at Elizaveta for taking his spotlight and rubbed his abused ear before speaking up again. "So we'll lead ya to your rooms now." He fumbled briefly in his pocket and extracted a tattered piece of paper from it with a few curses. "_Schade,_ um..." He glanced from the list to the group, then the list, before back to the group again. "Who is who and how the Hell am I supposed to know?"

Elizaveta thwacked him lightly on the arm. "Read the names aloud,_ idióta_." Gilbert only rolled his eyes in response.

"_Ja, ja, _I got it, crazy woman. Go do what you need to do, I can handle this."

She looked rather doubtful of his statement, but clearly realized that she had more pressing business to attend to. She could only sigh in response.

"Fine then, Gilbert. Um, Lovino, if you could...?" She gestured toward him. Lovino simply nodded in response, unhooking Antonio's arm from around his shoulders while simultaneously shooting him a look that was unreadable to anyone else. The Spaniard only shook his head and sighed, giving in to whatever demand Lovino was silently making and allowed him to walk away.

Once Elizaveta and Lovino had walked down the hall opposite them and vanished, Gilbert cleared his throat, his signature smirk returning. "Alright, first off, everyone follow me!"

He proceeded to walk down a hallway different from the one Lovino and Elizaveta had just disappeared through, guiding the group past a series of intricately carved doors, all made from the same shade of dark wood and bearing the same golden doorknobs, shaped interestingly like wings. Arthur had little time to ponder these doors for Gilbert took another turn down an entirely different hallway, but not before the group came before it. Arthur was the first to stop and stare, eyes wide as he took it in.

_It_ was a portrait. And quite an amazing one at that. Curious as to why Arthur stopped, Alfred did as well, blinking in confusion. As if by a chain reaction, the others paused, some tilting their heads curiously at it and others scratching their heads in confusion.

Naturally, Gilbert noticed that no one was following him anymore and backtracked slightly, grimacing slightly as he noticed what they were all staring at. "Ah, I guess I should've mentioned this."

"This wasn't here before. When did Feliciano have this put up?" Alfred asked wonderingly, and the others nodded in silent agreement, undoubtedly wondering the same thing.

Gilbert walked until he was standing directly before the portrait, staring up at it for a moment before he spoke again.

"It's just a portrait, that's all. Feli - er, the master - decided to put it up only about seven months ago or so. I think. I don't remember the exact time, whatever. Anyway, people, let's get a move on, we don't have all day to stand around like idiots." He clapped his hands after saying this, smirk back in place though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Arthur stared at the portrait a bit longer. It was a young boy, a child, a youth. He was dressed quite elegantly in dark robes, a matching hat, and perched primly in a chair laden with jewels and golden tassels. His blue eyes gazed soulfully from their canvas prison, far too lively for something that was supposed to be nothing more than a painting. His small hands gripped the chair lightly, yet one hand seemed to be holding something -

"Hey, British kid! We don't have all day, let's go!" Arthur was snapped from his reverie with a start, glancing ahead only to notice he'd fallen behind yet again. Mentally chastising himself for his lack of attention, he picked up the pace so he could meet with the group, not once looking back at the eerie painting whose eyes seemed to be always watching.

* * *

His room was certainly something.

Arthur supposed it was to be expected, considering the wealth of the Vargas family and the elegance and glamor of the mansion, but...needless to say, he hadn't _quite_ expected this kind of splendor.

Quite literally, this room could comfortably fit two of his bedrooms. Perhaps even two and a half.

The floor was luxuriously carpeted; he had no doubt that the carpeting was more comfortable than his own bed at home. It was a deep burgundy color and felt simply _fantastic_ beneath his bare feet. He trailed his fingers through the material experimentally. Perhaps he could try sleeping on the floor sometime during his stay. It wasn't a half bad idea, truthfully.

He allowed himself to sink onto the bed, brushing the curtains that surrounded it aside before doing so. If he thought the carpet was amazing, the bed was _heavenly_. He leaned back and closed his eyes, enjoying the coolness of the comforter against his back, palming the silken fabric with the lightest of touches. The bedding had the same theme as the carpet, that dark shade of red; however, it was patterned with complex gold designs that he couldn't quite make sense of. He traced his fingertips over them, trying to figure them out. Perhaps there was no point in trying, he'd never been one for art.

He sat up, glancing around the room. Though elegantly furnished, the room was relatively bare aside from a bed, dresser, lamp, and nightstand. Ah, and a phone and a clock on the wall. It seemed like so little for such a vast room. Compared to his room, however...well, perhaps he didn't quite want to finish that train of thought.

"What one can do with money," he murmured to himself, leaning back and letting his eyes close again. He found himself oddly weary but couldn't quite make himself fall asleep. There was something that still nagged at the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn't scratch. He had no idea what it was, so he figured it was best ignored until he figured out exactly what it was that was bothering him. As much as he continued to brush it off, it still bothered him.

Opening his eyes with an irritated sigh, he thought that perhaps he should...well, take a walk around the mansion, or perhaps go outside until lunchtime. Mind made up, Arthur slipped his shoes back on and let himself out of the room, closing the door behind himself with a soft click.

The hallway was devoid of people, which Arthur supposed was to be expected. Most were probably resting in their rooms or already outside. Who would want to waste a lovely day like this indoors, anyway? Plus there was the opportunity to explore the island, short as it would probably be since lunch was supposed to be soon. How soon, Arthur had no idea.

Vaguely remembering the path Gilbert had taken when leading everyone to their rooms, Arthur strolled down the silent hallway, his footsteps the only sound aside from the steady tick of a clock from somewhere. As he walked, he pondered again about the island. As lovely as it was and as luxurious as the mansion was, there was something very off here, that much was obvious. The way the employees acted when their master's name was mentioned, Gilbert's evasion of explaining the painting, Lovino and Antonio's conversation that he had (not eavesdropped on) overheard, Lovino being called away right off by a rather nervous Elizaveta...it was all too strange. Not to mention the entire feel the island gave off; it was as if there was something waiting, something waiting quite patiently for something to happen. What, Arthur didn't know, and he wasn't sure whether this sort of intent was good or bad.

He proceeded down the hallway, reaching that painting again, pausing. It was a very lovely work of art. The boy's features were forever sealed away in paint and canvas, it seemed. But why he mattered so much to Feliciano Vargas, that was the real question. As he gazed at the portrait for a moment longer, something caught his eye that he hadn't noticed before. There was a small plaque there that had engraving on it. Upon closer inspection, it was a small passage that appeared to be written in what Arthur assumed was Italian. Arthur didn't know a word of the language so there was no point in trying to read it. He frowned slightly. What would compel him to put up a portrait of a fair haired young boy, clearly of no relation to the Italian, and even leave a passage beneath it...?

He shook his head slowly. There was no point in pondering it now. Perhaps he could get something out of one of the employees. He knew full well the best source of information would be none other than Lovino, who surely knew plenty about his own brother, but Arthur had a feeling that information wouldn't come easily. So there wasn't a point in trying to force it out him. Arthur sighed. Time to move on.

As long as the hallway seemed, it was relatively easy to maneuver his way through it and head to what he was sure was only one of the many entrances. He'd barely entered the entryway before he was pounded so hard on the back he wheezed. Wincing and coughing he turned to face the culprit who was none other than Alfred. Arthur narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak but only managed a hoarse cough. At this, Alfred frowned, smile vanishing.

"Whoa, Arthur, are you okay? I didn't mean to whack you that hard, honestly..."

Once Arthur caught his breath, he sighed in exasperation at his overenthusiastic friend before speaking.

"It's fine, Alfred. You just don't know your own strength, sometimes."

And damn was Alfred strong. Arthur knew that better than anyone. He was both fast and strong, which always made him a good candidate for sports when they were in high school.

"So, was there something you wanted?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah! Lunch is ready. Elizaveta wanted me to come and get you since everyone else has gone already. Ludwig was even gonna come out and talk too, and he's a pretty cool guy. He's a damn good cook too, and is best friends with Feliciano."

Arthur blinked at that. Best friends with Feliciano? While it seemed like everyone here was close with the master of the house, this was the first time he'd actually had some kind of relationship confirmed.

"Best friends, you say?" He asked, trying not to sound overly curious as he walked beside Alfred, heading back down the hall towards the dining hall.

"Uh, yeah. Known each other for a long time apparently. It's pretty weird that they're friends at all, their personalities completely clash. They're pretty different, but I guess they've always been close."

"I see." Was all Arthur found he could say. This was an interesting development. He tucked the new information away for later, figuring he'd need it.

* * *

Lunch wasn't quite the glamorous affair Arthur had imagined, though the food they had eaten definitely belonged in a high-class restaurant. Alfred wasn't kidding when he said Ludwig was a damn good cook. He certainly couldn't even compare. He leaned back in his seat, full and content, glancing idly around the table at their assembled group.

Lovino had returned for lunch, albeit a little late and flustered looking. He was now seated next to Antonio, looking fairly worn out as he rested his head on his shoulder. Antonio was smiling affectionately, playing with Lovino's hair in return.

Kiku seemed to be engaged in conversation with Heracles, who seemed slightly more alert than he had earlier, nodding at everything Kiku was saying. He wondered what they were talking about that seemed so interesting.

Next to Kiku was Yao, who looked highly uncomfortable in stark contrast to his brother. This was probably because Ivan's hand was resting on his thigh in a not-so-nonchalant way. Whereas Yao looked uncomfortable, Ivan was smiling widely, clearly very comfortable with the whole situation. Natalia was on the other side of her brother and glared daggers at the entire scene which clearly made Yao even more uncomfortable, as he would occasionally shoot her nervous glances.

Berwald and Tino were seated next to these two, holding hands contentedly under the table. Tino was flushing lightly but seemed pleased, and Berwald...well, Berwald looked just as terrifying as he always did. It was so hard to read that man's expressions.

Peter sat next to the couple, seeming oblivious as usual and was kicking his legs since they didn't quite reach the floor. Arthur had whacked him lightly on the shoulder and told him a number of times to stop, but gave up once Peter had glared and kicked him quite deftly in the shin.

On the other side of Arthur was Alfred, who seemed just as bored as Peter did, and had amused himself by telling fart jokes to Francis until Arthur had gotten so sick of it that he had given him a whack like he had to Peter, except it was probably a bit harder of a hit than the one he'd given to Peter. Shooting him a look, Alfred had reluctantly stopped and had now taken to sighing heavily every other second. It was annoying, and Arthur let Alfred know this, but it was by far better than those absurd jokes.

Francis was seated next to Alfred and seemed completely content as he chatted animatedly with Matthew, who stood behind his seat, flushing and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Arthur had no idea what he was saying to the poor boy, but he was sure it was something he didn't want to hear.

Elizaveta and Gilbert stood together against the far wall, accompanied by a dark haired and bespectacled man he wasn't familiar with. Gilbert was lacking his usual characteristic smirk and Elizaveta sported a nervous little smile. The other man, however, was completely unreadable and stood there with a cool expression, arms folded across his chest.

Before Arthur could wonder about their expressions, a tall, blond haired man emerged from the kitchens, wearing gloves and carrying and apron, folded neatly over his arm. He surveyed the room for a moment, smoothing his already slicked-back blond hair with a hand before clearing his throat to speak.

"If I could have everyone's attention, _bitte_."

He had a strong voice that resounded through the room, cutting off everyone's conversations and causing them to turn and look at him.

"I just came out to ensure that everyone had an enjoyable lunch," he paused for a moment as everyone gave murmurs of satisfaction, "and to apologize for Feliciano not being here. He is sure to be here for dinner, so you all may expect him then. In the meantime, enjoy the island. Now excuse me, I have to clean the kitchen."

With that, the German turned and left, leaving everyone silent for a moment. Arthur couldn't help but notice that he hadn't hesitated in calling Feliciano by his name. All the other employees had stumbled over calling him 'the master' or anything of the like. How interesting. Perhaps they really did have a special relationship of sorts after all.

Arthur sighed, distracting himself from his thoughts. Again, later. This was supposed to be a vacation. He really needed to stop thinking about every little thing like it was something that needed solving. It would make him paranoid.

"Okay, that's all everyone! You may go anywhere in the house you wish as long as the door isn't locked. Oh, and avoid the master's study...he doesn't wish to be disturbed right now." Elizaveta's nervous smile faltered a little as she said this. "In the mean time, feel free to explore the house or island as you wish. That's all. I recommend you return to the house by 6 o'clock, however, since that's when dinner will be served. Have fun." Her smile still seemed strangely nervous and she seemed to be putting effort into keeping it up at all. Had something happened?

Alfred reached over and yanked on Arthur's sleeve.

"Hey, Art. Let's go hang out at the beach. Kiku and Heracles and a few others were gonna come too. I think Francis even convinced Matthew to come." He laughed at this. Arthur honestly didn't want to know what this supposed 'convincing' involved. However, seeing the beach sounded like a nice idea, so he managed a small smile.

"Alright. Let's go, then."

Seeming pleased that he wanted to go, Alfred seized him by the arm, nearly pulling him out of his seat and dragged him toward the entryway.

This alone was nice, Arthur figured. The mysteries would wait for him. Besides, it wasn't like something terrible would happen here. That was just ridiculous. This was a vacation and he should for once just let go and enjoy it as such.

...Shouldn't he?

* * *

Translation Notes:

_Schade _- I'm not positive about the exact translation since it was something I learned while still in German but it means something along the lines of dangit or crap.

_idióta _- idiot

_Ja, ja_ - Yes, yes

_bitte _- please

Mmkay, so I rather like how this chapter sets things up. Lots of little things that seem pointless in this chapter may or may not become important later. Just saying.

Please review, my soul will eternally belong to you if you do~


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